


Free

by awg



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 00:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awg/pseuds/awg
Summary: The question rings in Alex’s ears like an alarm. He feels like he’s been caught doing something wrong, like he should be apologizing to his mother and promising his father he’ll do better.





	Free

**Author's Note:**

> a little thing i wrote that took on a life of its own, and my first foray into writing for a fandom that i've been a part of for a decade.

Alex Gaskarth is a lot of things. A son, a friend, a half-decent guitarist, a shameless flirt.

He’s a lot of things but not one of them is confused, he swears it.

Alex is eighteen. He’s in a band that’s going somewhere, feels it in his bones, and plays music alongside his three best friends. He would never admit it to their faces, but Alex truly believes that it was a stroke of fate that brought Rian, Zack, and Jack into his life. He loves the three of them with his whole heart, in ways he can’t even begin to describe with words; none that he knows, anyway, and his vocabulary is expansive.

That’s not to say he doesn’t play favorites, though.

Most would say that Jack and Alex are attached at the hip, and they would be correct in that assumption. Jack is Alex’s oldest friend, the two having known each other since eighth grade when Alex transferred schools. Alex was the weird kid with frosted tips that tried way too hard to fit in and Jack accepted him at face value. They bonded over shared interests, music primarily, and that’s all they needed to build upon and form a bond that Alex imagines they’ll have until one or both of them are in the ground.

Jack always laughed at Alex’s jokes, never second-guessed him or his opinions. Alex practically had the kid wrapped around his slender, callused finger, despite that never having been his intention. If Alex told him to jump, Jack would ask how high.

Things with Rian weren’t that easy.

Rian questioned Alex at every turn, fought him tooth and nail about everything. Rian thought Alex pompous, Alex thought Rian a wet blanket. When Jack introduced them the first week of freshman year, he feared he might have had to break up a fist fight.

Alex and Rian bickered over any and everything. When band practices should be and how long they should run, what they should eat for dinner, what movie they should see. If Alex was passionate about it, Rian was, too.

Alex had met his match in Rian, and that’s exactly why he was his favorite. He loved the challenge, and Rian was full of them.

They became friends over time, however begrudgingly. They had their first real conversation without a spat woven in about two months after they met. Alex had arrived early to something for the first time in his life when he showed up at Rian’s door a whole forty-five minutes before their agreed upon practice time, and Rian was forced to entertain him in his family’s basement until Jack and Zack arrived.

Alex knew what time practice started. He and Rian had spent fifteen minutes the day prior going back and forth over whether it should have been at two or three.

They didn’t speak for the first eight minutes, Alex counted, while they set up their respective instruments. It was finally Alex that caved, despite himself, because he hates the sound of silence.

“Jack told me that you really started to get that Blink song down.”

Rian was initially on the defensive, assumed Alex was attacking his ability to play drums. Alex called him an idiot, assured him otherwise, and asked if Rian really thought he was that much of an asshole.

Rian said yes with such haste that Alex couldn’t help but laugh.

“You wear a fucking puka shell necklace,” Rian had said. “Of course I think you’re an asshole.”

They slowly chipped away at each other’s walls after that. Alex with a metaphorical pickaxe, Rian with a hammer, chisel, and endless patience. Alex lived to psychoanalyze and unlike with Jack who wore his heart on his sleeve, Rian had so much depth that Alex itched to explore.

Rian, on the other hand, knew Alex better than he knew himself, it seemed.

He was always one step ahead, always knew he was in a bad mood before Alex even realized it himself. He knew when Alex was anxious, excited, disappointed. Rian could read Alex like a book, and he did so effortlessly; Alex both loved and hated him for it.

Rian knew Alex inside and out, which is probably why it took him by surprise when Rian sat him down one day, looked him dead in the eye, and asked him the question every teenage boy fears being asked.

“Are you gay?”

In Rian’s defense and Alex’s case, it was a fair question. Alex had kissed boys, damn near made a habit of it, but almost solely when he was intoxicated. There was one instance when he and Jack were sixteen and Jack, full of adrenaline, smashed their lips together in the crowd of a concert put on by a local band they barely knew. Jack shrugged it off like he does everything, but Alex didn’t. Alex couldn’t.

But he’s _not_ confused, he _swears_ it.

Alex likes girls. Hell, he loves girls, so much so that it’s gotten him into trouble with every girlfriend he’s ever had. He likes kissing girls, and he likes having sex with girls, and likes the way that girls smell and how their hair frames their faces and bounces all around when they laugh.

He likes girls, so he doesn’t understand why, when he kisses boys, he dwells just a bit too long on the slight roughness to their lips. On the way boy smell is more like a musk that fills his nose and doesn’t leave for hours. On the way their stubble feels under his fingertips.

_Are you gay?_ The question rings in Alex’s ears like an alarm. He feels like he’s been caught doing something wrong, like he should be apologizing to his mother and promising his father he’ll do better. The words aren’t accusatory as they fall from Rian’s lips, instead genuinely curious, but Alex feels trapped regardless. His chest feels tight and there’s sweat on the back of his neck.

Rian is staring at him. Alex had spent the night at his house following him charming Rian’s mother into letting him stay for dinner when practice went too long, and then into letting him stay the night. Rian needed a little bit of convincing, too, and Alex bat his pretty eyelashes and Rian rolled his eyes and it was all so standard for them and their relationship now as barely adults. The night was spent playing GameCube. Alex had StarFox in his backpack, had stashed it there a month ago for this very occasion.

It’s the morning after, Rian’s parents are at work and Chase spent the night out. They didn’t have school because of an in-service. Alex made Rian eggs.

“What?” Alex spluttered. “No. I don’t know. What?” Rian blinked at him slowly.

“It’s just,” he began and then bit his tongue, stopping. His face twisted with careful thought, like he was meticulously crafting the words that were about to come out his mouth. “It’s just that you kiss me, a lot, and I know you kind of kiss everyone.”

Alex wants to die, right there in Rian’s kitchen. He should write a note to Kathi, apologizing for staining the linoleum.

“But you kiss me _a lot_ , and you’re always drunk, but sometimes you get really into it.” Rian’s tone is almost apologetic as he speaks. “I’ve asked Jack, he doesn’t know. I don’t care if you are, but I just…” He sucks in a breath, his chest heaving with the effort. “I don’t need to know, but I want to, if you’ll let me. You can trust me with stuff like that.”

When Rian is done he puts on his bravest face and squares his shoulders, like he’s expecting Alex to scream at him or maybe even punch him. What he gets instead is Alex staring him down, eyes blown wide, like a deer in the headlights.

After a few seconds with no response from Alex, Rian nudges his knee gently. The light touch feels like an electric shock to Alex, who’s frozen in place. “Alex, please say something,” Rian coaxes, voice gentle. Alex has heard him use that voice once before, when he told him about his brother Tom’s passing.

“I can’t breathe,” Alex states.

“What?” Realization hits Rian hard but not as hard as anxiety does Alex, who nearly launches himself out of the tall kitchen chair he had been sat in. He stumbles forward and tries to pace around the kitchen, ultimately failing and crumbling into a pile of long limbs and loose clothes on the floor. His shaggy hair obscures his eyes as well as the tears gathered at their corners. He grabs his shirt and curls his fingers into a fist, trying desperately to anchor himself to reality. He uses all of the tricks his mom taught him: stare at a stationary object and count to ten, think of a safe place. Nothing works, and he really thinks he may die on this kitchen floor until he feels a sturdy hand on his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” comes Rian’s voice, calm and unwavering. He’s at Alex’s back, one hand securely on his shoulder while the other rubs soothing, concentric circles just above his waist. Alex chokes and sobs, tries to speak but fails, and all he can do is focus on Rian’s arms as they snake around him and pull them together.

“I’m sorry,” Rian says, over and over again. They sit like that for a long while until Alex’s breathing starts to regulate. He hiccups and sniffles, but he starts to regain his composure. Rian must notice because he lifts his head from where he’d let it rest in the nook between Alex’s neck and shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats before letting Alex go. Alex immediately feels cold and, without thinking, jerks his hand backwards and drags Rian back in his direction.

“Ri,” Alex croaks. He wants to say more, but for the first time in his life words fail him. He turns his body so he’s facing Rian, whose expression is downtrodden.

“No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have…” Rian trails off. He’s wearing his guilt like an accessory, has it painted all over his face. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business.”

“ _Ri_ ,“ Alex says again, this time like he’s begging. Rian looks taken aback, confused, like he can’t read Alex as he’s grown so accustomed. Alex can’t form words, doesn’t know what words to even use, so he does what comes naturally and uses action. Hesitantly, Alex leans forward and closes the gap between him and Rian, pressing their lips together. It’s barely a kiss, really, but for Alex it’s a revelation.

Rian doesn’t move, neither away or forward, so Alex listens to his gut and deepens the kiss. Electricity runs through him. It feels like the first time he kissed a girl, but different somehow.

He feels free.

The kiss goes on for just a few more seconds before Alex pulls away. Rian’s eyes are still closed when he does, and his expression gives Alex butterflies.

“I don’t know,” Alex says after a moment. Rian opens his eyes.

“What?”

“Your question. I don’t know the answer.”

Rian stays silent, knows Alex better than to interject.

“I like girls,” Alex explains. “But I like guys too, I think. I like you. I like kissing you.”

Alex has invested his entire attention in Rian’s knuckles as he holds Rian’s hand in both of his own, thumbs grazing gently over his skin. There’s a flush to his cheeks that they both notice, but neither brings attention to.

“Is that okay?” Alex asks, finally meeting Rian’s gaze. Rian is silent for a moment, bottom lip slotted between his teeth as he seemingly mulls it over. Alex half expects him to kick him out before he smiles that perfect Rian smile.

“Of course,” he says.

Alex doesn’t give pause as he leans forward and kisses Rian again.

“I don’t—“ Alex says once they’ve broken apart. He’s vaguely distracted by the tinge of red to Rian’s lips that he left behind. “I don’t wanna tell people, not yet anyway. I will, eventually, just…”

Alex focuses on Rian’s hands again.

“Not yet.”

Rian brushes a strand of hair out of Alex’s face. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Alex,” Rian assures him. “It’s okay. You know that, right?”

Rian cups Alex’s chin with his thumb and index finger, makes it so Alex is looking at him.

“You do know that it’s okay for you to feel like this, don’t you?”

Alex bites his lip, glances sideways, and gives a decisive nod.

“I do. I will.”

Rian grins, and Alex responds with a smile of his own.

“Good.”

“C’mon,” Alex says, hoisting himself to his feet. He extends his hand to Rian, nonverbally instructing him to do the same. “I need a nap.”

“We just woke up,” Rian says, standing up regardless.

“Before 10 AM, on a day when we have no school.” Alex grabs Rian by the arm, drags him in the direction of his bedroom. “That’s, like, against the rules of eighteen-year old boy-ism, or something.”

“ _You_ woke _me_. Something about wooing me with your gourmet scrambled eggs, and the magic being lost after 10 AM.”

“Semantics. Keep arguing and I’ll never kiss you again,” says Alex as he turns the knob to Rian’s room. Rian, having exhausted his hollow protests, follows happily in tow while Alex leads them inside.

Alex Gaskarth is a lot of things, but he isn’t confused. Not anymore.


End file.
